


the were-talker

by BatWingsandBlackCats



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Werewolf AU, Werewolf!Laura
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 12:23:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12581832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatWingsandBlackCats/pseuds/BatWingsandBlackCats
Summary: The small, sleepy village of Silas sat on the edge of a forest in northern Massachusetts, and seemed to all the world a normal place. Quiet, respectable people lived in Silas. Farmers and merchants, a doctor or two. A single priest.Silas seemed like a normal, quiet village.Except for one problem.A monthly, furry, snarling problem.The village of Silas had a werewolf problem.--Or, the one where Laura is a werewolf and the only thing that can make her human again is the call of her name from Carmilla's lips.





	the were-talker

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, happy Halloween!! Hope you're all having a nice holiday! 
> 
> This fic was inspired by a post on tumblr detailing an old English myth that a werewolf could be turned human again if someone who loved and trusted the werewolf called their name.
> 
> Many thanks to Svelazquez1220 for the editing help 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy, and I hope you have a fun/safe night!!

_Massachusetts, 1761_

 

The small, sleepy village of Silas sat on the edge of a forest in northern Massachusetts, and seemed to all the world a normal place. Quiet, respectable people lived in Silas. Farmers and merchants, a doctor or two. A single priest. 

 

Silas seemed like a normal, quiet village. 

 

Except for one problem.

 

A monthly, furry, snarling problem. 

 

The village of Silas had a werewolf problem. 

 

It wasn't a terrible problem, mind. The streets weren't strewn with bodies every full moon, but livestock was regularly picked off and property destroyed. There was always some kind of mess to clean up in the early morning after a full moon.

 

Except for one full moon, four years ago. Theo Straka, who had been courting one Laura Hollis—rather forcefully, and one-sided--had been found messily dead in the village square the morning after the full moon. It was referred to as The Incident, and was rarely spoken of.

 

Yes, the sleepy village of Silas had a werewolf problem.

 

But they also had the solution. 

 

Carmilla Karnstein. 

 

Carmilla Karnstein had come to Silas to live only two months after The Incident, and by the following spring, the werewolf problem diminished. It wasn't gone, no, but there were two missing sheep in the morning instead of five, and where windows and walls had been smashed and damaged, now only fences were broken, and the occasional window. 

 

Nobody knew how Carmilla did it, and they didn't care to ask. 

 

Carmilla was a strange woman, people said. 

 

Usually dressed in black leather pants and a riding coat that hung past her knees, a scruffy linen shirt. Always a small pack with her, sometimes a bigger one, and a long knife on her belt. Sometimes a leather hat, sometimes not. Always a red sash around her hips. Her pale skin seemed to glow in the night against the black of her leathers, her long, dark hair making her look like a specter atop her horse. 

 

They called her the Were-talker, because with her coming, the werewolf threat was kept at bay. 

 

Most people avoided her.

 

She talked to few and few people dared talk to her. She was an enigma in the village, but an enigma the residents were grateful for, and didn't dare question. 

 

On the full moon, she would ride out into the woods on her black horse, pack on her back and knife at her hip, and she wouldn't be seen in the village again until a day or two later. 

 

The magistrate in the village, Will Luce, had tried to pay Carmilla for her services, but she refused payment and only asked that nobody question her comings and goings, and that nobody disturb her at her small house on the outskirts of the village. 

 

An easy enough price to pay for such a service, Will had thought, and granted it.

 

Though, just because they were grateful for her presence, didn’t mean that stories didn’t abound.

 

Some said she was a vampire, and the legendary rivalry between vampires and werewolves kept the worst of the werewolf's attacks at bay. Some she said she was a witch, casting protective wards around the village. Some said that she was cursed, able to communicate with the werewolf. Others swore they’d seen her riding into the woods with a musket and a pouch of silver bullets. 

 

If anything, the stories amused Carmilla as much as they did the kids who told them around the fireplace. 

 

It was now October, and the full moon had come round once again. 

 

Carmilla had been preparing all day, and now that dark had fallen, she climbed onto her black horse and rode into the woods, towards the sounds of heavy footfalls and snarling, dressed in her black leathers, knife at her hip, pack on her back with a blanket strapped to it, leather tri-cornered hat on her head. 

 

Carmilla calmly followed the sounds of footfalls and snarls, snapping twigs and crunching leaves, her shoulders relaxed and loose. The only anxiety her body betrayed was the slight clench of her heart, but she pushed past it. 

 

The werewolf had been running around for an hour or two already, mostly away from the village this time. She'd been watching from her house on the hill, and it seemed to have only passed by a few of the farms, which was fortunate. October full moons were usually the worst. 

 

Carmilla quietly tailed the werewolf for another hour, always keeping it within earshot, until it stopped, walking around the same copse of trees for a while. Carmilla dismounted her horse, patting its neck as she left the reigns on the saddle. Her mare knew to never run. She wasn't scared of the werewolf. 

 

With her pack still on her back, Carmilla crept forward towards the sound of heavy breathing and slow footsteps. 

 

A dozen yards ahead, crouching at the base of a great pine tree, was the werewolf. 

 

It looked almost small in its crouched state, but Carmilla knew that at its full height, standing on its hind legs, it was nearly eight feet tall. It's sinewy front legs were folded up against its chest, it's grey, nearly hairless skin glinting in the moonlight, it's sparse hair looking like strands of silver in the dappled light filtering through the pine branches. Its elongated face was looking downwards, sniffing at its paws, and its small ears were back, but they shifted forward suddenly, when Carmilla stepped on a twig. 

 

Carmilla paused as the werewolf's head snapped up, it's yellow eyes almost glowing. The werewolf's lips pulled back in a snarl, it's long teeth on display, and it leaned forward, now standing on all four gangly, sinewy limbs. It took a few steps forward.

 

Carmilla wasn't afraid. 

 

“That's it,” Carmilla murmured, holding up her empty hands. “it’s alright.”  

 

The werewolf took a few more steps towards Carmilla, and looking at her curiously, howl forming in its throat, when Carmilla spoke again.

 

“Laura,” Carmilla called to the werewolf. “Sweetheart, come back to me.”

 

The werewolf stopped short, looking confused. 

 

“Laura,” Carmilla called again. “Laura,” She stepped forward again, holding a hand out.

 

The werewolf whimpered, falling into a crouch again, it's breathing becoming ragged and labored. Carmilla watched, her insides clenching painfully like they did every time as she watched the werewolf begin to whimper and whine in pain and confusion as it's legs gave out, it's skin becoming stretched and uncomfortable. Carmilla’s eyes closed briefly, her heart aching, as the sound of snapping bones echoed in the silent woods, followed by pained screams and screeches as the werewolf's bones broke and reformed as it's form shrank, it's face becoming no longer elongated, it's grey skin becoming pink and soft, hairless. Its cries grew less and less animalistic and its voice became that of a woman, strangled gasps and sobs as the last few bones snapped into place, and, exhausted, she fell into the dead, frost-covered leaves. 

 

Carmilla hurried forward then, and dropped to her knees beside Laura's naked form, brushing her honey hair from her face, and gently rolling her onto her back to check her for injuries. 

 

“Laura, Laura, Laura,” Carmilla murmured gently, cradling Laura's face between her hands. 

 

It was hard to see in the dark, but it looked like Laura had a bruise on her stomach in the vague shape of a hoof, and a few scratches on her shoulder. Compared to some past full moons, it wasn't so bad.

 

Bleary hazel eyes opened and looked up at her tiredly. “Carm?” Laura sighed, still a little disoriented. She always was after shifting back. “Did I...?” She asked, the unspoken question heavy in her eyes. 

 

_Did I kill anyone?_

 

“No,” Carmilla said, shaking her head. “Only a sheep. Possibly a goat.”

 

Laura sighed in relief, leaning into Carmilla’s hand. “Good.” Her stomach turned, still. She never liked hearing that she killed something, even if it was an animal.

 

Her mouth tasted metallic but she tried not to think about it. 

 

Carmilla gently helped her sit up, and then shrugged off her pack, and unbuckled the straps that held the quilt that usually sat folded at the foot of their bed. She unfurled the quilt and wrapped it around Laura's shoulders--Laura had begun to shiver in the cold—and helped her to her feet. Making sure the blanket was snugly wrapped around her, Carmilla scooped Laura up, her legs too shaky to walk, and made her way back to her horse.

 

“Let’s go home,” Carmilla murmured, kissing Laura's forehead. 

 

Full moons were stressful for both of them. Carmilla had never been afraid of Laura in her uncontrollable form, but what she was afraid of, deathly afraid of, was that one of the farmers would eventually have enough of losing livestock nearly every month, get his hands on a silver bullet or two, and bury them in Laura's flesh. 

 

She was grateful that she found Laura quickly this time, as she hoisted herself into the saddle, Laura holding tightly to her. 

 

Sometimes she couldn't pick up Laura's trail so easily, and it would take her hours and hours to find her. 

 

But it hadn't this time, and Laura was snug in her arms, holding tightly to the lapels of her leather coat as they rode back to their house on the hill. 

 

“Thank you,” Laura sighed tiredly, her face tucked into the crook of Carmilla's neck.

 

Carmilla smiled softly. “Always,” she said simply, holding her a little tighter. 

 

As the horse crested the hill and trotted towards the stables, Laura's head shot up. “You have your knife, right?” She asked urgently. 

 

“Of course, I always carry it,” Carmilla said, carefully dismounting her horse, a tight grip around Laura's back. 

 

The knife at her hip was made of silver, a gift from Laura after Carmilla found out about Laura's secret, after they'd fallen in love that first winter, after The Incident. Laura made Carmilla take it and keep it on her, afraid that she might attack Carmilla while shifted. Carmilla had accepted it with much grumbling, and kept it on her like Laura asked. 

 

What Laura didn't know was that Carmilla had welded the hilt of the blade to its scabbard so it could never be drawn.

 

Carmilla entered the house, careful as she walked through the doorway to not knock Laura's feet against the frame, and gently placed her in a chair by the fire before shrugging her coat off and hanging it, along with her pack and hat by the door. 

 

“I'll draw your bath,” Carmilla said, and leaned down to kiss Laura. 

 

“I can help,” Laura said as soon as they parted, but Carmilla laid a hand on her shoulder. 

 

“Sweetheart, you're sore, please rest?” She asked gently, tucking Laura's hair behind her ear. “Besides, you took care of me last week after that pukwudgee shoved me off that ledge in the woods near Bridgewater.” Her eye was still a bit purplish where she came in contact with an unfortunately placed rock, her lip healing well but still bruised. 

 

Laura had chastised her quite relentlessly for not being careful enough as she dabbed at Carmilla's split lip when she's returned home. 

 

Carmilla usually stayed around Silas, seeing as neither her nor Laura much liked spending time apart, but occasionally she would ride to nearby towns who were having problems of the supernatural variety. 

 

She was becoming known in the area, and she wasn't sure how much she likes that. Still, they could use the extra coin to bolster the profits from Laura's bakery in the village square. Laura used to live with her father until his passing three years earlier. She had sold his house, taken over running the bakery, and moved in with Carmilla. 

 

Aside from Laura's monthly problem, they couldn't be happier. 

 

“Fine,” Laura sighed, slumping into the chair. The shift always left her an odd combination of exhausted, terribly sore, but wired and agitated. She still wanted to get up and run but her aching body wouldn't allow it. Still, she preferred this over being in her uncontrollable state all night. 

 

Wolfsbane would take the edge off the jitters. 

 

“Are you alright?” Carmilla asked, pulling Laura from her thoughts. She had undressed down to her linen shirt and underwear, a hand on Laura's knee.

 

Laura had been lost in thought for some time it seemed, steam rising in wispy curls from the bathtub that Carmilla had placed in front of the fire earlier that day.

 

Laura smiled a little and nodded. “Just thinking,” she said, and took Carmilla's hand, standing up. She let the blanket fall from her shoulders as Carmilla finished undressing, and climbed into the tub after Carmilla, sighing as the heat from the water seeped into her bones. 

 

She always bathed after the shift, usually feeling grimy after running through the woods, and the heat helped her aching body. Laura leaned against Carmilla's chest, letting out a contented sigh. Her body still felt like it was buzzing, but the aching began to dull, and it felt nice to lay against Carmilla. She could feel Carmilla combing her fingers through her hair. 

 

“I've gotten a letter,” Carmilla said, breaking the silence. “it seems that the Dover Demon has returned, scaring the shit out of the poor farmers around there,” she said, twirling a lock of Laura's hair around her finger, her other arm gently wound around Laura's waist. 

 

“Is it?” Laura asked, beginning to relax a bit. She looked up at Carmilla with a smile.

 

Carmilla hummed, nodding. “Fancy a ride in a few days, once you're feeling better?”

 

“Sounds perfect,” Laura said, smile widening. Carmilla's monster hunting tendencies had been rubbing off over the last four years. Laura had always craved adventure, as much as she liked her life running a bakery. “I'm sure Perry can handle the bakery for a few more days.”

 

Carmilla hummed, smiling. “Might be nice to get away for a few days, even if we are going to be hunting a demon,” she chuckled. She took the cloth that was draped over the side of the tub and scrubbed a bar of soap against it, before gently beginning to rub it across Laura's shoulders, careful of the few scrapes.

 

Carmilla continued gently running the cloth over the planes of Laura’s back, and then gently tugged on Laura’s shoulder, silently asking her to turn towards her. She ran the cloth over Laura’s chest, between her breasts and again over her shoulders. 

 

“Carm?” Laura asked after a while, breaking the silence. She reached up and fingered the pendent that hung from a leather cord around Carmilla's neck as Carmilla hummed in response. Carmilla gently dragged the cloth down Laura’s arm. “Do you ever wish you were doing something else?”

 

Carmilla looked down at her, confused. “What do you mean?”

 

“I just...you didn't start monster hunting until you met me,” she said. “I just wonder sometimes if you ever had...other plans.”

 

Carmilla shrugged a little. “Not really,” she said, “I had a vague notion of maybe starting a farm once I settled somewhere, but then you and monster hunting fell into my lap, and in all honesty, it's much more interesting than farming.” She grinned, leaning down to gently bite Laura's neck where it tickled. 

 

Laura giggled, squirming away. “Okay,” she said with smile, and bumped her forehead against Carmilla’s as she ran her fingers through Carmilla’s damp hair. “I just wonder sometimes.”

 

Carmilla tilted Laura's chin up and kissed her gently. “I wouldn't want to be anywhere but here,” she said seriously. 

 

“Me either,” Laura sighed, but the sigh quickly became a gasp, Laura's eyes flying open when they'd just been fluttering shut.

 

“What?” Carmilla asked, suddenly alarmed.

 

Laura swallowed hard, her fingers curling into fists. The cramping, tingling sensation of the shift was creeping up her back again, the buzzing feeling in her chest growing worse, the beast wanting to take over. 

 

“The moon, its...strong tonight,” Laura grimaced, squeezing her eyes closed as she forced the urge down.

 

Carmilla leaned forward, her hand moving to wrap around Laura’s waist as her other hand lifted to cradle Laura's cheek. “Laura,” she said gently, “Laura.”

 

The sound of her name seemed to sooth the urge rising up in Laura, and she took a breath, sinking into Carmilla's embrace, but it suddenly welled up in her again, tenfold this time. Laura's back arched, her fingers hooking into claws as she groaned in pain.

 

“Carm,” Laura gasped, “Carm get the wolfsbane, hurry,”

 

At Laura's begging, Carmilla was on her feet in a flash, scrambling out of the tub and hurrying up the stairs to their bedroom, not caring that she was dripping water everywhere, or that water had sloshed out of the tub and onto the floor. 

 

Carmilla snatched the small glass bottle of wolfsbane tonic from the stash in the cupboard, and as she raced back downstairs, she glanced out the window. 

 

The moon loomed overhead, huge and orange. 

 

A harvest moon. 

 

Carmilla cursed, and ran faster back to Laura. She hadn't gotten a good enough look at the moon before riding out to find Laura that evening, she hadn't known. 

 

The October full moons were always worse than usual, but on October harvest moons, it was painfully hard for Laura to keep the shift at bay. 

 

Carmilla's voice calling her name wasn't enough. 

 

When Carmilla reached the tub again, Laura didn't notice her presence, her irises yellow, eyes staring forward, unseeing, her teeth looking much too big for her mouth. 

 

Carmilla pulled the cork from the bottle with her teeth, and gently tipped Laura's head back, forcing the mouth of the bottle between Laura's lips. 

 

“Laura, love,” Carmilla whispered, hoping the sound of her name and the wolfsbane would be enough to stop the shift. 

 

Laura swallowed automatically, and soon, her eyes faded back to hazel, her teeth shrinking and becoming human again. She took a few deep breaths, and looked to Carmilla, looking shaken. 

 

“Did I--” She stuttered out, but Carmilla gently shushed her.

 

“No, no, sweetheart,” Carmilla said, smoothing her hair back. “you barely shifted. Gods, I'm sorry Laura, it's a harvest moon. The almanac was wrong,” Carmilla leaned forward and kissed Laura's forehead. 

 

Laura's shoulders slumped in relief, but at the same time, her stomach turned. 

 

The Incident had happened on a harvest moon. 

 

“I'm going to need more of that,” She said, eyeing the now empty glass bottle.

 

“We have plenty,” Carmilla said, helping Laura to her feet. 

 

Once they both toweled off, they headed upstairs to their bed, fingers intertwined. Laura went to her wolfsbane stash first, letting go of Carmilla's hand and downed another dose, sighing as the buzzing under her skin abated further. 

 

She turned and crawled into bed, curling up in Carmilla’s waiting arms with a relieved sigh. Carmilla ran her fingers through her hair and Laura leaned into her touch, finally feeling relaxed, the buzzing in her reduced to a faint murmur. 

 

“Laura?” Carmilla asked softly, and smiled a little at the vibration of Laura’s answering hum again her chest. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” She said, stroking Laura’s back lightly. Laura’s leg was hiked up over her own, cold toes brushing Carmilla’s leg.

 

“What is it?” Laura asked, looking up at Carmilla. She leaned up and kissed Carmilla’s jaw, her hand falling to Carmilla’s waist. 

 

“Um...last full moon, something happened,” Carmilla began, but continued hurriedly at Laura’s alarmed expression. “something good, cupcake, I promise.” She said gently, holding her tighter. “I’ve been wanting to tell you for ages but I know you don’t like talking about when you shift, and I didn’t want to scare you. Like that.” Carmilla said with a sigh. 

 

“What happened?” Laura asked, looking confused. 

 

“You saved my life,” Carmilla said simply, smiling a little.

 

“I...what?” Laura asked, her confused look deepening. 

 

“It was storming that night,” Carmilla explained. “I was having trouble finding you because the rain was ruining your trail. It took me hours, and I rode for miles through some parts where you don’t usually roam. I was...I was getting scared because I couldn’t find you, and I wasn’t paying attention to where I was.”

 

Laura’s brow furrowed, and she wound her arm around Carmilla’s waist under the blankets. 

 

“A mountain lion came running out of the dark and spooked the horse, and she reared and threw me.” Carmilla continued, as she rubbed soothing circles into Laura’s back, staring up at the timber ceiling. “Something had happened to this mountain lion, it wasn’t normal, it’s eyes were red like fire, and it looked…far too big.” Carmilla remembered it’s large, glowing red eyes and its foul breath, it’s footfalls sounding far too loud for a cat of that size. “it started to round on me, but then you came charging out of the trees and attacked it before it could attack me.”

 

Laura stared at Carmilla, dumbfounded.

 

“You threw it into a tree and it ran away, and you sat a few feet away from me and watched me until I got my bearings and called to you,” Carmilla murmured, her eyes soft as they met with Laura’s.

 

“I did?” Laura asked quietly.

 

Carmilla nodded. “You were half delirious when you shifted back, you were soaked and tired because it took me so long to find you so I just brought you home to get you cleaned up and in bed.” She smiled a little at the memory of Laura fast asleep in the tub. It was the most peaceful she’d ever seen Laura after a shift.  

 

“I saved you,” Laura said, still looking a little disbelieving as she let the fact sink in.

 

Carmilla nodded. “I’ve always known that you’re still you, deep inside, when you shift,” she said, her hand moving from Laura’s back to her heart. “that just confirmed it. You still protected me. Somewhere inside you still knew it was me.”

 

A lightness grew in Laura’s chest, a bubbling joy as she nuzzled into Carmilla’s neck, an uncontrollable smile gracing her face. 

 

Her worst fear had always been waking up after a full moon to find Carmilla lying broken and bloody and cold in the village like Theo. She’d had nightmares about it and in the beginning, they’d fought, Laura yelling that she didn’t want to hurt Carmilla and Carmilla yelling back that she wouldn’t lock Laura up like Sherman had. 

 

They had found out by accident one night that the call of Laura’s name from Carmilla’s lips would make her human again. 

 

But.

 

She hadn’t hurt Carmilla. She’d _protected_ her.

 

“You’re still you, sweetheart,” Carmilla said softly, blushing at the kisses Laura was pressing into her neck. “I don’t care what the stories says.”

 

Laura pulled back after a moment and looked down at Carmilla, who was smiling at her, eyes full of love. Laura leaned down and kissed her gently, and then pressed her forehead to Carmilla’s.

 

“Maybe...that makes up for Theo a little,” Laura said quietly, her eyes closed. 

 

“I think so,” Carmilla murmured. 

 


End file.
